


Indigo Dancer

by AceCavalier



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Flirting, Background Relationships, Dancer Azur | Inigo, Dancer Laslow, Inspired by Art, M/M, of course there's awkward flirting it's a fic about laslow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 18:37:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14983157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceCavalier/pseuds/AceCavalier
Summary: AU where Inigo follows his dream to become a dancer instead of becoming a swordsman. When he, Severa, and Owain are sent to Nohr, Inigo finds himself having to utilise his dancing skills to enchant a certain prince...---“I know it’s not exactly the sort of gift you’re used to,” Leo was saying, arms folded as he watched Xander’s doubtful expression, “but give it a try. You might be pleasantly surprised.”Realising how ungrateful he must appear, Xander hurriedly wiped the hesitation from his face and turned to his younger brother with a smile. “No, I think it’s a wonderful idea, truly,” he said, hoping he sounded convincing. “I’m fascinated to see what you’ve got planned for me.”That wasn’t a lie, either – he was definitely fascinated by the fact that Leo had taken him, of all people, to a concert hall, of all places, for a birthday gift.





	1. A Flustering Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by the most amazing artwork by the wonderful sworn-2-secrecy, who had the brilliant idea of Xander's first meeting with Laslow being a private dance. Check it out here:  
> https://sworn-2-secrecy.tumblr.com/post/173707903616/hero-cavalier-sworn-2-secrecy-what-if-their  
> (I don't know how to make links work on A03 help)
> 
> They do the most fantastic artwork and tonnes of Laslow and Xanlow and you should definitely go take a look and cry over all the wonderful wonderful Xanlow art I'm not crying you're crying.  
> So this work is inspired by and dedicated to sworn-2-secrecy on tumblr!

It had been Leo and Camilla’s idea. They’d wanted to get him something special for his birthday, something that would help to take his mind off the stress of being Crown Prince of Nohr, at least for a little while. That Xander, Leo, and their father, King Garon, happened to be travelling to Cyrkensia around the same time as Xander’s birthday certainly worked in their favour.

Xander stood before the grandly decorated archway at the front of Cyrkensia’s famed concert hall, Leo at his side, and wondered what on earth his siblings had in store for him this time.

“I know it’s not exactly the sort of gift you’re used to,” Leo was saying, arms folded as he watched Xander’s doubtful expression, “but give it a try. You might be pleasantly surprised.”

Realising how ungrateful he must appear, Xander hurriedly wiped the hesitation from his face and turned to his younger brother with a smile. “No, I think it’s a wonderful idea, truly,” he said, hoping he sounded convincing. “I’m fascinated to see what you’ve got planned for me.”

That wasn’t a lie, either – he was definitely fascinated by the fact that Leo had taken him, of all people, to a concert hall, of all places, for a birthday gift. But Leo, having always had a gift for insight, saw right through him.

“Just trust us on this, brother, and try to enjoy yourself for once.”

He turned and strode away, Niles hurriedly following behind him, leaving Xander alone to brace himself. Perhaps Leo was right – he should trust his sibling’s instincts and try to enjoy himself. After all, how bad could it be? With a final, steadying breath, he stepped inside.

A woman with long, white hair wearing an outfit that seemed to tangle and twist around her recognised him immediately and offered a deep bow before guiding him away from the main stage to a side corridor. Xander hesitated at first, and at his uncertainty the woman paused.

“Excuse me, my lord. This is the way to our private stage.”

Only Xander’s years of training in the art of appearances allowed him to keep a steady expression. “Private stage?”

“Yes! Reserved only for the use of the royal family.” Xander couldn’t help but wonder if Hoshidan royals also enjoyed the privilege, then brushed the thought away. “Please, if you’ll follow me.”

They continued up a set of stairs and down another grandly decorated hallway before stopping at a set of tall, mahogany doors with golden handles. The woman turned to him and offered another, shallower, bow. “This is the stage where your performance will be held, my lord.”

“Thank you. If I may ask… what kind of performance has my brother arranged for me?”

The woman’s eyes practically gleamed. “Prince Leo asked us to present you with one of our finest performers. A dancer, only recently arrived to Cyrkensia, but they possess a talent unlike anything I’ve seen. I’m certain you won’t be disappointed, my lord.” She opened the door – an impressive feat for the slender woman, though Xander guessed she was far stronger than she appeared – and gestured for him to enter.

Xander forced aside his hesitation and entered, his curiosity aroused. Cyrkensia’s finest performer, a dancer, performing just for him? Leo really had outdone himself with organising this, and Xander hoped, for both their sakes, that this would be as good as the woman believed it would be. The room he found himself in was dimly lit, with dark blue silks adorning the walls and ceilings. On one end of the room a lounge area with seats and a table had been arranged, while the rest of the room was bare save for a miniature stage, raised slightly and panelled with the same mahogany as the doors he’d entered through. At the far end the room was walled off by a curtain of red material – the sound of a lone violin drifted out from beyond it. 

Walking across to the lounge area, Xander sat himself carefully down in an armchair directly in front of the private stage area and settled into it, feeling oddly vulnerable alone and without Siegfried at his hip. Before he had time to dwell on the feeling, however, the candles lighting the room seemed to burn brighter, a pair of violins joined the first, and a figure stepped out from behind the curtain.

In the slightly improved light, Xander immediately noticed how exotically dressed the figure was; similar to the woman that had led him here, the azure outfit seemed to spiral around the figure’s body, tight in some places and loose and flowing in others, leaving patches of skin exposed here and there. The lower half of their face was covered by a gold-trimmed veil, and long strips of silken material hung from their arms. For a moment they simply stood in the centre of the stage, head bowed and arms spread, then the music picked up a trilling, energetic rhythm, and the dancer looked up, eyes hovering above where Xander sat.

Even with the dancer’s face covered partly by the veil and the messy mop of silver hair, Xander could tell they were male, and his eyes widened in surprise. He’d never heard of male dancers before – had Leo known when he arranged this? But why would he…? Before he could finish that last line of thought, the dancer began his routine, and Xander was instantly mesmerised.

It started slowly at first, sweeping turns and slow waves of his arms, letting the silk ribbons linger in the air like a smoke trail as the dancer seemed to glide across the stage, his bare feet seeming to never touch the ground, every movement as fluid and seamless as water. The pace and rhythm of the music increased, and the dancer’s routine matched it – easy rotations suddenly became wild turns, arms and silk spinning like a storm. His feet worked faster than Xander’s eyes could have followed had he been trying, but his attention was pinned to the dancer’s face, the dreamy look in his eyes, and, most captivating of all, the smile on their face, only just visible through the veil he wore.

Then the dancer turned away again, twirling before running into a leap, landing, twirling again, ribbons whipping through the air around him. He tilted his body skyward, arms stretched up toward the ceiling, and Xander caught a glimpse of an impeccably toned torso between strips of cloth. The dancer lowered his arms to the side and rolled their body in a manner that struck Xander as almost sensual, setting off a stammer in his chest that he couldn’t quite explain, then he kicked a leg high into the air and resumed his spinning. Just when Xander was convinced the dancer would make himself dizzy with such rapid turning, the music changed again, slowing and dropping pitch, and the dancer’s movements where once again smooth and flowing, gentle but sweeping, a back-and-forth tide of movement.

It was only then that Xander realised how hard it was to breathe and how viciously his heart was banging against his throat. Those tide-like movements were steadily bringing the dancer towards him, right up to edge of the stage, and Xander found himself gripping the edges of the armchair, both his breath and his heart caught in his throat and struggling to think. His face burned right up to his ears, and no matter how desperately he tried to compose himself, his body refused to listen. 

Finally, to both his delight and horror, the music dropped again, and the dancer stepped off the stage, hips and shoulders swaying to an undeniably sultry rhythm. The dancer looked up, meeting his wide eyes for the first time, and Xander thought he noticed a pause, for less than a fraction of a second, as the dancer’s eyes widened in return and – was that colour on his cheeks, peeking above the veil he wore? The moment flashed past as quickly as Xander noticed it, then it was all he could do to focus on retaining at least some of his princely dignity as, daringly, the dancer flicked out his ribbons to expertly curl them around Xander’s neck. If Xander’s heart didn’t explode out of his throat at that point, it was only by sheer miracle. He felt that he must be cherry-red from his eyes to his collarbone, if the burning sensation across his skin was anything to go by, and every breath was a struggle as the dancer, eyes lidded and definitely smiling, began to dance directly in front of him, hands tugging on the ribbons around the back of Xander’s neck, hips swaying and rolling, drawing him closer and closer until he shifted himself onto Xander’s lap.

Some semblance of control returned to him. Xander opened his mouth, intending to tell the dancer to remove himself immediately, but the words died before he could voice them, drowned out by the pounding of his heart, and when he raised a hand to try and push the dancer back, he found it instead gliding across the silken material covering the dancer’s leg, the same one draped over his own. The other was bent up against his waist so that the dancer was now sitting on top of him, tugging himself up against Xander’s chest with the ribbons wound around him, keeping him securely captive, and Xander realised he was totally unwilling to escape. With the dancer’s weight on his lap, with his smiling face and dreamy brown eyes just inches away from him, with one of his hands resting on the dancer’s muscled thigh and their chests pressed together, Xander couldn’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else in the world but right there, locked in that moment forever. As if that wasn’t enough, the dancer leaned in further still, head tilted slightly, and a thousand voices screamed in Xander’s head, five hundred of them telling him this was a terrible, horrible, awful idea, and five hundred begging him to press his lips to the dancer’s veil, to wrap his arms around that perfect body, to steal him away for his own.

Before he could do anything, however, the music stopped with a sudden, swinging crescendo, and the dancer raised his thumb to Xander’s lips, halting whatever his body had been willing him to do. He sat there dumbly, eyes half-lidded, completely at the dancer’s mercy with five hundred voices desperately trying to tell him to compose himself. In a flash fast enough that, for a moment, Xander believed he had dreamed it and simultaneously slow enough that Xander imagined an infinite number of responses in his head before it was over, the dancer leaned in with a devilish smirk and kissed him lightly on the lips just for a moment, the soft material of the veil the only distance between them. Then he leaned back, slid gracefully from Xander’s lap, and twirled his way back up onto the edge of the stage, where he bowed low before Xander’s comically wide eyes and dumbfounded expression. For a moment both of them were frozen like that before the dancer lifted himself, and his demeanour changed dramatically. Almost immediately, the grace and confidence dissipated into an awkward sort of shyness that had the man trying to cover himself and looking absolutely anywhere but in Xander’s direction. This time, the blush across the dancer’s neck and ears was unmistakable.

“I, uh, hope you enjoyed it…” the dancer spoke for the first time, his voice as lilting as his dancing and carrying an accent Xander didn’t recognise. When Xander didn’t respond – he was too busy frantically trying to remember how to function properly – the dancer’s blush reddened and he turned away. “G-Good bye, milord!”

He made to dash off, and Xander finally moved, but not in the way he had intended to. He lunged forward out of his seat just in time to grab the dancer’s wrist, making him whirl around with a yelp in surprise.

“Wait!” Xander rasped, voice ragged. “What is your name?”

The dancer just blinked at him for a moment, confused, before stuttering, “I-Indigo…”

Xander released him, and with a few hurried steps he had disappeared back through the curtains as though he had never been there at all, save for the burning all through Xander’s body and the aching in his chest. He staggered backwards and slumped back into the armchair, feeling both exhausted and more energised than he had ever been in his life, and just breathed, willing his mind to clear. It did so slowly, sluggishly, unwilling to leave the blissful haze the dancer – Indigo – had left him with. He raised his fingers and brushed them against his lips, recalling the feel of the dancer’s kiss…

No. His resolve, finally back in one piece, was firm. He couldn’t let himself dwell on it. It had been an enjoyable birthday present – an immensely enjoyable one – but he had to pull himself back together. When he left this room, he’d have to go back to being the stern, disciplined, controlled Crown Prince Xander, and the less he thought about this incredibly flustering encounter the better. It took him a long stretch of minutes to regulate his breathing and ensure that the blush had faded from his cheeks before he rose on surprisingly shaky legs and left the room.

Leo was waiting for him outside the concert hall’s entrance, arms folded behind his back and eyes already searching for any sign of a reaction.

“Well? Did you enjoy it, brother?”

Xander prayed that his voice was steady when he responded, “Yes, I did. The dancer was… certainly very skilled. It was an excellent gift. Thank you, Leo.”

Leo just watched him for a moment, inspecting him, before giving a slight nod. “Good. I’d hoped you’d enjoy it. Now, we’d best get back to father before he misses us.”

As Leo began to walk away, Xander cast a final look over his shoulder at the hall behind him, almost hoping he’d catch one last fleeting glimpse of that wonderfully charming dancer, but there was no sign of him, and Xander shook his head, turning to follow after his younger brother.


	2. A Risky Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xander thought Indigo was nothing more than a memory now, something for him to look back on as one of the most interesting gifts he'd ever been given - and would likely ever been given - and never to be seen again.
> 
> He was mistaken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me sooooo long to update!! I wasn't sure if I was going to continue with it because it stood fairly well as a ficlet but I had so many ideas for this that I just couldn't keep it to myself, so here we are!  
> Like the first chapter, this is also dedicated to sowrn-2-secrecy on tumblr - they've been feeling a little down lately so I hope this helps cheer them up!

Weeks had past since his birthday – two, to be precise – and Xander still found himself reminiscing on the rather special gift he’d been given in Cyrkensia. More often than he’d like, he found his mind lingering in particular on the chaste kiss the dancer had placed on his lips just as the dance had ended, the dreamy look in his warm, brown eyes, the shaky way he had stammered his name. _I-Indigo_ … 

One night, when sleep had been particularly reluctant to greet him, Xander had allowed himself to relive the dance in his mind, the music twirling in his head as wildly as Indigo’s movements, but instead of finishing with the two of them pressed together on the chair, the half-dream state of his mind had brought Indigo to his bed…

“Brother?”

Xander jolted himself back to the present, turning his head to look at his brother standing beside him. The two of them and their sister, Camilla, stood outside the throne room’s massive doors, awaiting the order to enter. Was the hallway warmer than usual, or was Xander imagining it?

“Yes, Leo?” he asked, nearly wincing at the slight break in his voice.

His brother frowned. “You seem distracted – are you feeling alright?”

“Of course,” he replied firmly, even mustering up a reassuring smile. “I’ve just had a lot on my mind, I suppose, what with the border conflicts with Hoshido getting worse, and now that father’s put me in charge of…”

He was interrupted as Leo raised a hand. “I see. Usually I have Niles assist me with my work – can’t your retainer be of any use?”

“Peri is more than useful on the battlefield, but I’m afraid paperwork is not her strength...”

“You poor thing,” cooed Camilla. “All that hard work on your own! I’m sure I can lend my dear Beruka to assist you, if you’d like?”

He was about to politely decline the offer when the doors to the throne room opened and Iago, their father’s trusted advisor, beckoned them inside. The three siblings followed him into the brightly lit room where King Garon sat low on his throne, one elbow resting on the marble and his chin propped up against his fist. His glowering gaze followed them to the foot of the dais, where the three of them bowed deeply.

“Ah, my children. I imagine you’re wandering what you’ve been brought here for, hm? Guards!”

Curious, Xander turned back towards the throne room’s doors, mimicked by Leo and Camilla. These days, it was a challenge indeed to know what their father would have in store for them whenever he called them to throne room; punishments, prisoner interrogations, reports of wins or losses in the war, executions – they were rarely occasions to celebrate or look forward to. So, having expected some poor doomed soul to be dragged through the doors, Xander was surprised to see two figures being led willingly into the hall. One was a red-haired woman in mercenary garb, and the other was a blonde man that he assumed was a mage, judging by his lack of armour – both were vaguely familiar, though Xander struggled to place where he would have seen them. They entered and bowed.

“Those are the two swords-for-hire from Cyrkensia,” Leo remarked. "Seems they caught father's eye after all." 

Recognition struck Xander suddenly. His mind had been in such a whirlwind after… after the performance he’d seen that he’d barely been present for the rest of the day – he hadn’t even remembered visiting the mercenaries until Leo had mentioned it. Of course, that meant he had no idea why they were at Castle Krakenburg.

His question was answered soon enough: Garon extended a hand towards them and spoke, his rumbling voice booming from the walls. “Rise. The two of you have been deemed worthy of serving the noble house of Nohr. You shall swear yourselves to the service of my children – your lives are theirs to command, and you will guard them with your lives if necessary. Do you swear?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” they answered simultaneously.

Garon nodded and Iago stepped forward. The mage’s wiry voice screeched out into the hall, a stark contrast to the king’s booming.

“Swordswoman! You’ll serve the princess Lady Camilla.”

The red-haired girl grinned and gave another bow. “It would be my absolute pleasure!”

“And you, mage, shall be a retainer to the prince Lord Leo.”

“What?!” hissed Leo. “I don’t need another - !”

Xander hushed him with a hand on his shoulder, and the two exchanged a look – Leo’s one of exasperation, Xander’s one of gentle warning. Don’t test father’s kindness.

With a scowl, Leo relented and turned his attention back to the mage, who bowed low and dramatically.

“Fear not, Lord Leo! You have acquired the mighty servitude of the infamous Odin Dark – a name that makes the fell spirits tremble!” He rose again and stepped forward. “Oh Mighty King Garon of Nohr, Greatest of Kings, Ruler of the Kingdom of Eternal Dark, we are greatly humbled to serve your noble children! As thanks for your mighty generosity, we saw fit to offer you a gift, one of great rarity! Behold!”

He stepped to the side with a flourish, and the guards behind him parted to reveal a third figure – at the sight of him Xander nearly stumbled, eyes wide and his breath catching in his throat. It was impossible to mistake him for anyone else. Messy silver hair, toned and elegant figure, the graceful way he walked… The veil was missing from his face, but Xander had no doubts. 

This was Indigo, the dancer from Cyrkensia.

He was only slightly more modestly dressed than when Xander had first seen him, wearing loose trousers and a vest that only covered the upper half of his torso, with loops of azure-coloured cloth hanging from his wrists; his eyes were downturned, his hands fidgeted, and Xander could see that he was blushing faintly.

“I present to you: Indigo! The greatest dancer in all of Nohr, Cyrkensia, and Hoshido!” The mage, Odin, ushered Indigo forward, seeming to whisper something to him before raising his voice again. “His dances are so skilled – so wondrous to behold – that they have been known to inspire soldiers to feats worthy of legend!”

For the first time since his children had entered, Garon leant forward in his throne. “A dancer, you say?” He gave a disbelieving grunt. “Very well, then. Dance.”

The hands that had been wringing nervously suddenly froze, and Indigo looked up in horror. He looked at the mage beside him, who nodded encouragingly, then up at his audience, scanning the faces watching him. When his eyes fell on Xander they widened considerably, and Xander had to fight to keep any sign of recognition from his face.

“I said: _dance_!” Garon repeated, this voice thundering through the room.

Indigo visibly flinched. For a moment it looked like he was about to turn tail and flee from the room altogether, but then his eyes locked on Xander once more, as if asking for help, and almost involuntarily Xander let his expression soften a little. As Indigo’s friend had, he offered a nod of encouragement – a small gesture, yet it seemed to be enough. Indigo took a steadying breath, raised his arms and began to dance.

It was nothing like the dance he had performed for Xander in the private room at Cyrkensia. While his grace and skill were still plain enough to see, it lacked the joy and fluidity that Xander had found so mesmerising, and Indigo almost seemed strained as he performed a series of stiff rotations, cloth spinning around him, curling and uncurling his body. He twisted and whirled, but his feet caught together and he nearly stumbled before catching himself. Xander winced, and behind him on the throne his father made a sound like a growl.

“Enough!” he snarled. “Enough! Throw this pest out onto the streets where he belongs. His dancing has no place here.”

Mid-spin, Indigo staggered to a stop and looked up at the dais, dismay clear on his face. Even the mercenaries who had accompanied him looked panicked, and Odin started stuttering with his words, trying to dig up some convincing argument about Indigo's “wondrous talent” or how he was “just not feeling himself in your mighty presence, O Mighty King”. The guards began to close in on the dancer, and if he had looked panicked before he looked thoroughly terrified now. Before they could reach him, however, Xander stepped forward, raising a hand to stop them. Everyone in the room froze.

“Father,” he began cautiously, aware of everyone in the room now fixing their attention on him. “If I may, I found this dancer’s efforts to be quite promising. He shows… excellent finesse and balance…” He was desperately trying to think up reasons on the spot. In battle, he was always quick to play out every potential option or strategy before him when planning an attack – he had many chess games with Leo to thank for that – but now, with his father glaring at him and his siblings staring at him like he was mad, he struggled to think of anything, and the longer he struggled, the more mad he looked. He could almost watch the patience leaving his father’s face when, thankfully, an idea suddenly struck him. “I believe he has great potential as a swordsman!” he finished hurriedly, hoping he sounded more convinced than he was. “Father, allow me to take the time to train him. If I am successful, I will take him on as my own personal retainer.”

Garon’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. Had he pushed his luck one step too far this time?

“Fine. So long as you don’t neglect your duties or your training, I’ll allow you to take on this… pet.”

The jibe bounced off him like a stone off armour – it left a dent, but one that was quickly overlooked.

“Thank you, father.” He bowed, catching a look of bewilderment from Leo that he pointedly ignored. Indigo looked so relieved that his knees might buckle. At least, until the king spoke again.

“Consider yourself lucky, _dancer_ ,” Garon spat the word like an insult. “All of you are dismissed. Leave!”

Without waiting a moment Odin grabbed Indigo by the wrist and practically dragged him out of the room, the red-haired swordswoman offering a final bow before hurrying after them. The three royal children didn’t hesitate to make their exit, either, and once they were outside the hall with the grand doors shut behind them, Leo rounded on his older brother.

“What madness has gotten into you, Xander?” he demanded. “Contradicting father like that could have gotten all of us in trouble. What were you thinking?”

Camilla tsked at him. “Now, Leo, I think it was very kind of Xander to give the poor boy another chance. What a generous heart our brother has! And think how happy dear Elise will be when she hears the castle has a dancer!”

Xander shook his head. “As I said to father, I intend to make him a suitable retainer.” Not that he’d really thought about how he would do that. Or, in fact, thought of anything beyond having said it out loud. Just what had he gotten himself into here? Putting himself uncomfortably close to the one person he should be staying as far away as possible from, based on their last encounter? Xander had a sinking feeling that this wouldn’t end well. “If he intends to keep his place in Krakenburg, he’ll have to set his dancing aside.”

Camilla looked a little disappointed at that, but Leo was fixing him with a puzzled look – Xander had no doubt he suspected something odd was going on. How would he explain himself? His recent birthday gift had allowed him to view dancers in a different light, perhaps, or given him a new interest in the performing arts? Maybe he was feeling particularly sympathetic to the plight of dancers after the experience... He hoped Leo wouldn't press him too thoroughly about the matter.

Most of the guards had already escorted the new retainers away to their quarters, but Xander ordered one to send Indigo to his chambers within the hour. There would need to be a conversation about… everything, and he might as well get it out of the way sooner rather than later.

“I can’t believe this. I’ve been coping perfectly well with just Niles – I don’t need some fool mage to look after!” Leo was saying when Xander returned to the conversation.

“I think having a new retainer is exciting!” Camilla chirped. “Especially one with such lovely confidence. And that hair!” She looked like she’d just been handed a baby bunny.

“If father has given us new retainers, there’s a reason for it,” added Xander. “We’d do well to appreciate it.”

Leo huffed his acceptance. “I suppose. Besides, it could be worse – at least I won’t have to teach him how to be a retainer…” He fixed his gaze pointedly on Xander, who frowned.

“Yes… Now, I have a lot of work to do. I’ll see both tomorrow for your training.”

Xander dismissed himself and hurried back towards his quarters, where he sat himself down behind his desk, steepled his fingers in front of him, and lowered his forehead to his fingertips. What had he done? He knew nothing about this dancer, not even their name, aside from the fact that he had made Xander feel more flustered than any other experience in his entire life. And now he had put himself in a position where he’d be close to the same man that had kissed him, Dusk Dragon damn it, for however many hours a day, every day, until he found somewhere else to send the poor man.

How would he explain it to Indigo? What could he say? _‘I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that dance, and the thought of you being turned out onto the streets of Windmire terrified me almost as much as the thought of never seeing you again?’_ That, essentially, was why Xander had done it, hadn’t he? He’d wanted to protect Indigo from whatever fate his father would have sentenced him to, of course, but was that really all that had made him stand up for the dancer? Or was it something deeper than that…?

 _No_. Xander’s iron resolve raised its bulky head in his mind, walling off his thoughts. He had done it out of kindness on the spur of the moment. Any thoughts he’d been having about Indigo, any memories he’d allowed himself to indulge in, would have to be permanently put aside. He had said he would turn Indigo into a retainer, and a Crown Prince was a man of his word – no matter how much of a struggle it would be. But first…

A tentative knock on the door stirred him.

“Yes?” he called, raising his head. “Who is it?”

“It’s m-me, milord…” stuttered a voice that quickened Xander’s heart, no matter how hard he willed it not to. “May I come in…?”

Best to rip the arrow out quickly than to let it fester.

“Certainly. Enter.”

The door creaked open and Indigo entered – or really, slunk in, looking like he was trying to blend in with the door itself in the hope of somehow avoiding notice and failing miserably. He avoided looking up at Xander as he shut the door behind him, and simply stood at the far end of the room with his hands behind his back, shuffling his feet awkwardly. He was still wearing his dancer’s outfit, the cloth ribbons hanging forlornly against his legs. Xander sighed again and leaned back in his chair.

“Come closer so I don’t have to shout, would you?” The words came out too much like an order, and Indigo flinched before he hurried over, stopping a few feet short of the desk. He still hadn’t lifted his face, and Xander made sure to soften his tone before speaking again. “Do you know why I stopped my father from throwing you out?”

Indigo tried to look at him, gave a barely audible whimper, and looked back down at his feet again. “N-no, I don’t think so, milord, but I… I wanted to thank you for giving me a chance. I honestly don’t know what… if you hadn’t…”

“You would have been thrown out onto the streets, left to fend for yourself. In a place like Windmire, you likely would not have lasted a week.” He paused, watching his words sink in to the messy mop of silver hair covering Indigo’s face. “I know you can dance better than you did before my father, so why didn’t you?”

Through his hair, Xander saw a blush spread across Indigo’s cheeks and, somehow, he lowered his head even further, so that his chin must surely be resting on his chest. “I… Well, I get shy in front of crowds, milord… Having so many people staring at me…”

“You didn’t seem shy at all with an audience of one,” Xander remarked, remembering the bold look in Indigo’s eyes as he’d slid himself onto Xander’s lap – he shook the thought away so quickly he almost jolted. _No, Xander! None of that!_

Indigo, on the other hand, _did jolt_. He finally looked up, eyes wide, struggling for words. “O-Oh… Well…” he coughed, the blush on his cheeks deepening. “Th-that was because… That was different! I... I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

“Yet here you are.”

All Indigo could manage in reply was a feeble, non-committal nod, his eyes once again darting away from Xander’s. He raised his fingers to his lips, seemingly without realising it, before hurriedly forcing his hand back to his side. His blush deepened, spreading down his neck. “As your retainer now… I suppose you can order me to dance for you whenever you like…”

“No!” Xander was far too quick to answer, and they both knew it, if the way Indigo looked up in surprise was anything to go by. The prince cleared his throat – mustering up his remaining dignity – before he continued. “No, thank you. I did… enjoy your dance, yes, but as a royal retainer now you have new duties and responsibilities. As I said in the throne room, I intend to take you on as a retainer, and a retainer must be able to defend their liege in battle. Have you any skill with a sword?”

Indigo swallowed nervously. “Some. My… father taught me some of the basics, but I chose to focus on my dancing.”

Seeing him standing there like a nervous child being scolded by a parent, it was difficult for Xander to picture him as the bold dancer he remembered, and he wondered if the strange turn of events was the only reason for his change in demeanour. An issue with confidence, perhaps? Maybe shyness? Something he’d have to observe in future; he reminded himself, with an inward groan, that he did indeed have a future of interaction with Indigo, for better or worse.

“Very well,” Xander continued, pressing his anguish aside. “Starting at dawn tomorrow, we shall begin your training in swordsmanship. I’ll be training you myself, so I hope you’re ready.”

“At dawn?!” Indigo exclaimed, looking like he’d just been threatened. “But I…!”

“Dawn,” repeated Xander, sternly. “My father’s not an easy man to impress, and if he finds your progress lacking…” He let the words hang, but Indigo caught their meaning easily enough.

“Very well, milord,” he relented sulkily. 

“Also. I’ll need to know your name. Your real name.”

“It’s I – uh, Laslow. My name is Laslow.”

“Good. And one final thing.”

Laslow looked like Xander had just told him to scrub dishes for the rest of the day, judging by the look of dismay on his face. Even Xander might have found it amusing if his afternoon hadn’t just taken a whirlwind of a turn.

“Yes, milord?”

Xander steeled himself. “About… what happened. During the dance. You are to tell no one about it. No one. Do you understand?”

Laslow was quick to brighten. “Certainly, milord. I won’t tell another soul.” To Xander’s utter astonishment, he even had the gall to offer a wry grin. “It’ll be our little secret.”

To his credit, he only faltered a little when Xander returned his cheek with a deadpan glare.

“Dawn tomorrow. If you are late, I promise you’ll regret it. You are dismissed, Laslow.”

The dancer bowed before hurrying out of the room – once he was gone, Xander leaned back in his chair and buried his face in his hands. What on earth had he gotten himself into now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is there more to come? You bet there is! When will it be out? Hopefully sooner than it took me to add chapter 2! What will happen? We'll see...

**Author's Note:**

> A largely self-indulgent Xanlow fic inspired by amazing art and designed to fill the gaping hole in my soul that desires AU fluff with a dash of angst.
> 
> Also sworn-2-secrecy did some more art for this fic specifically AND I AM DEFINITELY CRYING TEARS OF SWEET SWEET JOY.
> 
> https://sworn-2-secrecy.tumblr.com/post/173717204456/hero-cavalier-wrote-a-wonderful-short-fic-based


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